The Chronicles of O'Leary
by Shutterbug5269
Summary: A series of short crack fics featuring Garrae's OC Patrick O'Leary, the "movable mountain" from her story "What's In A Name" Character used with permission.
1. Rogan Meets the Mountain

_****A/N: I wrote this for no other purpose than Garrae needed something to smile about. She was so tickled she insisted I share it with everyone. Her OC Patrick O'Leary, the "movable mountain" from her story "What's In A Name" used with permission. Enjoy.****_

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 **Rogan Meets the Mountain**

Rogan O'Leary sat at a small table near the back of his girlfriend's bar in upstate, NY feeling pretty good about himself. Though it was clear that Kit-Kat was not nearly as much fun as she used to be, it was clear that he could still play her like a fiddle. She would help him to get what he wanted... especially since he held all the cards. If that rich fiancé of hers was willing to offer him additional financial incentive to sign the dissolution of marriage papers, so much the better. He figured on holding off signing as long as he could to squeeze everything he could get away with out of them.

His musings on the topic were quickly interrupted by a voice he only barely recognized, however.

"Rogan Quincanon O'Leary, you've been a _very_ naughty boy again, haven't you?"

When Rogan turned to face the man who had called him by his full given name he was confronted with a set of hips. He slowly craned his neck to look up...and up...and up to take in the biggest movable mountain of a man he had ever seen, topped by a face he had not laid eyes on in nearly twenty five years.

"All this time and you still haven't changed have you?" The voice of his cousin, Patrick Seamus O'Leary boomed. This was clearly not the scrawny five year old baby-faced cousin he used to push around and drag into his schemes. He'd obviously hit that first growth spurt a little late and never stopped.

"You certainly have Paddyboy" Rogan muttered in disbelief.

"Strike one, cousin," O'Leary rumbled, crossing his massive arms over his equally massive chest, muscles rippling powerfully, eliciting a gulp from Rogan.

"Strike two was for even _thinking_ of messing with Beckett," he rumbled, leaning in menacingly in his best Irish brogue "you really wanna try for strike three, boyo?"

Rogan gulped again as he thought about his options, not to mention the very high odds that he would get beaten into the middle of next week, then stomped the rest of the way to Sunday and waved Kate over, quickly signed the form, then departed the bar as fast as his legs could carry him without so much as a backward look.

* * *

Ten minutes later Patrick, Castle and Beckett were laughing over churros.

"I thought for sure he was gonna piss himself when he first got an eyeful of you." Castle said between laughing fits.

"Been lookin' forward to doing that since I heard Aunt Mary finally disowned him," O'Leary chortled.

Kate nodded, unable to get any words out as she was trying (and mostly failing) not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

"If I'd know that poor invalid wife in a coma Aunt Mary disowned him over was actually you, I'd have looked him up sooner, spared you the embarrassment." He grumbled, suddenly serious.

Kate stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks O'Leary." She whispered.

"I get a dance with your boy at the wedding and we're even." O'Leary rumbled, a grin splitting his face followed by a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Get your own writer, Sasquatch, this one's mine!" Kate snapped with little malice in it as she swiped his last churro.

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 _ ****I never get tired of seeing a bully or a con artist get their comeuppance, and the moveable mountain, O'Leary certainly puts the "UP" in comeuppance!****_


	2. Mother of the Mountain

**Mother of the Mountain**

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Castle, Beckett, and O'Leary were enjoying a few well deserved drinks in a secluded booth at Molloy's. A local Irish band was playing and the entire pub seemed to be having a marvelous time downing their pints and heartily singing along , until the door to the pub brought the entire scene to a stop.

O'Leary was tensing to stand and investigate the sudden noise when they heard a woman's loud bellowing Irish brogue from the doorway.

"Where is he? Where's me boy hiding?"

In that instant, O'Leary stopped moving to rise and instead did everything a massive mountain of a man could do to hide from a voice he apparently recognized very well.

"Sean Patrick Seamus Pilbeam O'Leary, you come out here this instant!" the older woman's voice bellowed, and every single Irishman in the bar - regardless of age - cringed, O'Leary included. By the look in his eye it was clear he was hoping his side of the bench, which barely contained his massive frame would somehow swallow him whole.

"Kill me," O'Leary mouthed at Beckett, but she shrugged her shoulders.

Castle moved to look, but Kate elbowed him in the ribs to prevent him from twisting around the massive movable mountain's ample shoulder to see who it was. He would not have to wait long to satisfy his curiousity, however, as the source of the loud, bellowing Irish brogue rounded the corner to reveal the tiniest adult redhead Castle had ever laid eyes upon. Rounding out no higher than four feet eleven in her sensible shoes, she would have been dwarfed by his own daughter in socked feet.

"You were supposed to be at the fittin for your tuxedo three hours ago" she shouted at him, and the massive mountain of a man who could make even the mightiest criminal tremble in fear bowed his head.

"But ma," he said with none of his usual self-assurance behind it, "I have a perfectly good dress uniform! Making a monkey suit fit me would..."

"Nothing made me prouder than when you took after yer dear departed father, but yer little brother insisted that all o'ye match on his wedding day, and with the good Lord as me witness you'll be showin' up at that fitting if I have to drag y'there."

O'Leary spluttered, but before he could utter another word, his tiny Irish mother gripped his earlobe and twisted.

"Now, up you get!" She hissed, "you can down a pint with yer friends when yer family obligations be done."

She tugged at his earlobe and the massive mountain of a man once again bowed his head, hunched his shoulders and rose from his seat, having to remain bowed low as his tiny Irish mother perp-walked him by the ear out the door.

Castle and Beckett stared at the door and then at each other.

"Did that just happen?" They whispered in unison, before they both broke down into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

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 _ **A/N: I sent this to Garrae over the weekend and she insisted I share this with everyone. She has even given this series a name. "The Chronicles of O'Leary"**_


End file.
